This One Day
by Infallible.Mirage
Summary: Coronation Day, and the Lioness refuses to show her face amongst the celebratory crowds outside. Because after all, the wounds of the past never truly heal. Oneshot.


**Angsty because my mind can think of nothing else.**

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Coronation Day.

While the rest of the realm celebrates, I retreat to my rooms to mourn. Maybe I'd like some company - I don't know, no one's ever tried. Even George leaves me alone this one day a year.

Jon complains, more with each passing year. He didn't used to, in the beginning. The first year I told him I wouldn't be in the celebration, he just nodded. I could see in his eyes that he wished he could hide in his rooms as well. But each year I stay away, the look in his eyes hardens.

He actually sat me down for a lecture this time, told me that it was bad for the Champion to not be seen today, that he understood my grief, but everyone else managed to keep theirs under control, that after all these years I should be able to face the crowds. His tone infuriated me, so patronizing. It seems I _like_ him less and less as time goes on.

I love him still, old feelings don't die that fast, but I can't help remembering what I told Thayet in the desert a decade ago. That I would give my blessing, but only if she didn't let him turn into a selfish prig. I meant it as a joke then…but he's a prig now if there ever was one, and I can't help wishing we'd both taken that condition a little more seriously.

Who is he to say that time can wash away grief? Liam, Thom, Faithful…time has nothing to do with the pain that stabs at me whenever I think about that day.

Faithful was his own being, the Cat takes control of it's own destiny. I know if he hadn't thought I was ready, he wouldn't have gone back to the stars. He took his leaving well - Josiane would have killed me otherwise. Looking back, I know that I was ready to live my life without him, though it doesn't hurt any less. Still, I can see him whenever I look up to pray to the Goddess, and it's nice having my shoulder to myself.

Liam…what can I say? We weren't lovers by then, so I didn't miss him that way at least. But he…sometimes I felt like he understood me. Jon was too much of a royal, George with more wits than he could carry, but Liam was a warrior, plain and simple. We wanted to fight for justice, to protect as many people as we could, and we wanted our lives to have meaning. And that bonded us more than anything physical. The only thing we disagreed on was death.

After all these years, I finally see what he meant. To die for something worthwhile _is_ better than living safe. Maybe I'm a coward then, because I still would rather _live_ and make a difference. But Liam knew he would die that day, and he went to the coronation anyways, he took the arrows anyways, and I'll always admire him for that. It was the death he wanted, and I honour it because he chose it.

But Thom…there's _nothing_ to find in Thom's death that can soothe me, I should know, I've tried and tried over the years. Analyzing the events that led up to it, examining my brother's character, trying to find something positive in it, something that I can hold on to so it doesn't hurt as much. Nothing works.

It hurts just as much now as it did when I first saw his Gift streaming away from him. And it'll never stop. Because he was half of me. And so maybe that half was away in the City of the Gods for eight years, but I always knew he was there. And maybe that half was…tainted, when we finally saw each other again, but at least I could hold out for the possibility, the chance, that he would be healed, and we would be whole again.

And it almost worked. Si-Cham's spell had just a week to go…

I'd _rather_ be tainted then be left with this hole inside me. I've covered it, time can do that, but if I travel deep down within myself…I can find it faster than it takes my darling Squire Nealan to come up with a witty, thoroughly aggravating comment.

I can't even bring myself to think the death was justified. It's hard to speak ill of the dead, especially if the dead is your twin and brother, but even I have to admit it was his own cockiness and arrogance that got him into that trap. He brought back the dead, he toyed with the gods, and no amount of magic could have gotten him out the fate he was due.

We were born together…and as irrational as it was, I guess I always thought we'd die together. I never thought I'd be getting married without seeing him in the audience, I never thought I'd be giving birth without him in the room harassing the midwife, I never thought I'd visit Trebond without the possibility of pushing his head into the pond.

But I had to do all those things, and I did, with a smile on my face and a sword in my hand.

I moved on with my life, focused on the people around me, on the outside world.

And just this one day a year, I allow myself to reach inside me, and examine the wounds still hidden there, hastily and sloppily closed by magic and will in the aftermath of the battles.

_Every single day_, I pray for Faithful, and I honour Liam.

But only this one day a year, do I dare mourn for my brother.

This one day the rest of the country calls Coronation Day.

And Jon won't ever be able to understand that.

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**I realize it's long, and babbling, and slightly random. I'm already extremely happy if you've read up to here. If you review...it'll probably push me into euphoria. **


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